


Bold and (b)Rave

by Green_Riot



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Space, Eventual Smut, F/M, Smutfest2021, TPTH Smutfest, The Prince and the Heiress, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:14:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Riot/pseuds/Green_Riot
Summary: Vegeta and his men are sent on a stealth mission by Frieza. It's bad enough for the Saiyan Prince to be forced to attend a rave incognito, but dealing with the blue-haired woman seemingly intent on getting in his way may be the death of him.Written for TPTH Vegebul Smutfest 2021. Theme: Rave Party.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 32
Kudos: 79
Collections: TPTH Vegebul Smutfest





	1. Cropped Tops and Ripped Jeans

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to bardocksheadband for betaing!

A string of profanities spilled from Vegeta as he tore the scouter away from his ear. He had barely enough self-control to resist the urge to shatter it to pieces in his hands – the last thing he needed was a dock in his already shitty pay to cover the cost of a new one – and threw it onto his bed, wearily dragging a gloved hand across his face.

He sighed in aggravation as soon as he heard the knock on his door that he had been expecting.

“It’s open,” he barked, scowling as the metal doors slid apart and his fellow Saiyans shouldered their way in.

Nappa’s enormous frame sank into the chair next to the door. “I guess you saw?”

“Tch.”

The long-haired, slightly less giant Saiyan leaned against the door with his arms crossed and a wide grin splitting his features. “I think it sounds fun. It’s about time we got some shore leave to mingle and get some p- _oof!"_

He doubled over in pain as Vegeta’s fist sank into his diaphragm, causing him to cough and sputter.

“Do you ever think about anything other than your fucking dick?” His voice was low and cold as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Why do you think he’s sending us for this job?” Nappa stroked his thin mustache absentmindedly. “We’re purgers, for fuck’s sake, not spies.”

Vegeta was trying to figure that out himself. It made no sense. If Frieza wanted this target taken out discreetly, why send them? 

Nappa and Raditz remained silent, knowing better than to interrupt their leader’s train of thought. 

After a moment of reflection, he spoke. “I’m guessing Frieza has approached this weapons maker before, and she refused to do business with him. Otherwise, he would demand she be brought in alive so he can get his hands on whatever it is she’s selling to his brother.”

Nappa interjected, “So I say we just get in there, go for the kill, and get the hell out--quick as a flash.”

“Fool,” Vegeta spat. “If we take her out in the middle of a fucking club in front of Cooler’s agents, they’ll know exactly who we work for. And Frieza can’t risk direct conflict with Cooler. Do you know what that means?”

He paused even though he knew Nappa would have no response. “He’ll claim that we acted without orders and have our heads sent to Cooler as a peace offering. We’re competent enough to potentially pull this off without alerting Cooler…but we’re dispensable enough for him to get rid of if things go south.”

The ensuing silence was heavy. Vegeta’s lip curled; he, the prince of a proud warrior race, was nothing but a disposable pawn to a goddamned lizard tyrant. 

Raditz was the first to break the silence. “So we either kill her in the middle of a crowded club or take her by force…from the middle of a crowded club...Great.” It was just his luck that they were going to the shenanigans capital of this quadrant and he wouldn’t even be able to enjoy his time there.

Vegeta snatched his scouter and brought it to his face, skimming over the dossier one more time before putting in an order for a ship to be ready as soon as possible. When the request was processed, he removed the device and turned his attention back to his subordinates. “We leave for Planet Bacchus in three hours.”

“How long do you think we’ll be there?” Raditz asked, attempting (and failing) to appear uninterested.

“The orders say the deal may happen anytime in the next five days,” Vegeta answered. “Hopefully, it’ll happen tonight so we can get off that hell-hole.”

\-------  
It was a worse hell than Vegeta could have conjured up in his worst nightmares. The thumping music would have hurt his head even if his race didn’t have an abnormally keen sense of hearing, and he gagged on the intermingling smells of sweat, body odor, perfumes, and clouds of smoke carrying various intoxicants. Being beaten within an inch of his life by Frieza didn’t seem like such a bad alternative.

Having had no luck finding anyone he was on the lookout for, he made his way in the direction of the “chill room” he had overheard a pair of revelers searching for earlier. Nappa and Raditz were staking out other areas, so he might as well move around.

He eventually found a sectioned off area separated by heavy gold curtains. Inside, it was much quieter, but the distorted ambient music made him uncomfortable. Three of the walls were lined with couches with plush cushions, many of which were occupied by individuals in various states of inebriation – some relaxing casually, some wearing dazed, dopey smiles, and some panicking while companions offered what little bit of comfort they could to their tripping comrades.

Vegeta braced himself against the wall near the entrance and scanned over the room’s occupants. Planet Bacchus was neutral territory in a hostile sector of the galaxy, so it drew all sorts of bizarre-looking creatures of all different sizes, shapes, and colors. His eyes widened when they settled on the most Saiyan-like creature he had seen in all his years in the Frieza Force. She looked almost exactly like a Saiyan woman, but with blue shading where there should have been black. When his eyes dropped to her waist, he also noted that she didn’t appear to have a furry brown tail like the one that was wrapped tightly around his waist. 

She wore a small pink top with reflective diagonal stripes that hung from one shoulder and ended several inches above her belly button, and her forearms bore several strings of chunky, plastic beads of all colors and shades. Her legs were partially covered by pants made of some type of stiff blue material full of horizontal gashes that made Vegeta question why she bothered wearing pants at all if so much skin was going to be exposed. The shoes she wore were black with white bottoms and matching white strings that criss-crossed over the top of her feet before ending in bows near the ankle where the shoes ended. Slung across her hips was a small metallic-colored pouch with several zippers. 

He turned away far too quickly when her sapphire eyes locked onto him, missing the curve of her smile as she wandered over to where he was stationed.

“Hiya.” Her chipper voice annoyed him instantly. When he gave no reply, she took a swig from the water bottle in her hands before tilting it toward him. “Want a swig? You gotta keep hydrated.”

He looked from the water bottle to her face just in time to see her pink tongue swipe out to catch an errant water drop, and something in his stomach clenched. He redoubled his efforts to ignore her.

She was undeterred. “I guess they don’t speak Galactic Standard wherever you’re from. It’s a shame, really. The first cute guy I see on this planet, and we can’t even have a conversation.”

Heat rushed to his face at being referred to as ‘cute.’ “I speak Standard,” he spat indignantly. “I’m ignoring you.”

“What, I’m good enough for you to check me out but not good enough to talk to?” Her tone was teasing with no indication of actual insult.

“Tch. Don’t flatter yourself.”

She laughed. “Oh, you’re a fun one. I like you.”

Her persistence was beginning to irritate him. He had a job to do and had just opened his mouth to tell her to get lost when his attention was diverted by someone pushing past the curtain and entering the chill room.


	2. Glow Sticks

A tall woman with light turquoise skin and long green braids cascading from her scalp had entered, and he immediately recognized her as Chervil, better known by the garish moniker “Green Goddess,” one of the top-ranking officers in Cooler’s army – and the one they knew would be serving as the intermediary between him and the arms dealer Eedee-Im, who just so happened to own the club they were meeting in. Vegeta had yet to spy Eedee-Im amongst the hundreds of drunken, shameless partygoers.

He knew that, for the time being, the best course of action would be to keep eyes on Green Goddess, which meant that he would need to get rid of the blue-haired pest that apparently couldn’t take a hint. When he looked at her from the corner of his eye, he found that she was watching Cooler’s agent with a slight frown. She turned her head toward him, and for the briefest of moments, upon catching him watching her, she looked as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t be. 

Her eyes traveled back to Green Goddess. “She’s _gorgeous_ ,” her attempt at nonchalance could have fooled anyone less observant. 

Vegeta was sure that there was nothing in his body language to encourage her to continue, but she did anyway. “I’d love to be that tall and thin.”

 _Jealousy._ Vegeta rolled his eyes. The woman speaking to him was far more attractive than the one she was comparing herself to, in his opinion, but he had better things to do than to assuage her ego. He needed to figure out a way to put some distance between them, and he needed to do it quickly – Green Goddess was heading down a hallway half-hidden behind enormous sculptures on the opposite side of the room. It was obvious by how much effort was put into making the hall inconspicuous that it was an area not intended to be used by guests.

His need to remove himself increased tenfold as a squat, round alien with three horns protruding from either side of his head headed in the same direction Green Goddess had disappeared in. His was another familiar face from their debriefing: Trance, Eedee-Im’s right-hand man. 

As luck would have it, he didn’t need to find any excuse or insult to make his getaway.

“Well, Badman,” the blue-haired woman said in her teasing, flirtatious lilt, “This conversation has been enthralling, but I just found the group I came with. See you around!”

To his irritation, she went in the same direction he needed to go in order to follow his targets, which would make it more difficult to pass by unnoticed. She situated herself near a large group of people but made no move to join in the conversation. He positioned himself in the midst of a crowd near the center of the room and waited to be sure she wouldn’t take note of where he was heading. As he had predicted, after several minutes, the woman’s eyes swept back to the spot where he had been previously stationed. She glanced around the rest of the room and, as if purposely attempting to compound Vegeta’s annoyance, sauntered over to the very hallway Green Goddess and Trance had disappeared down. Whatever she was up to, she was _good_ – she knew exactly how to move in a way that seemed confident but not attention-grabbing.

Vegeta followed after her once he was sure that he could go unnoticed, encountering several twists and turns in the passage before he caught a glimpse of blue hair darting into a room concealed by a beige curtain. He approached noiselessly, and, upon peeking in, witnessed her placing a small object to her ear while her other hand held a flat, rectangular device against the wall. She was the room’s only occupant, so he stepped inside, making his presence known.

The color drained from her already pale face when she saw him, and he could see the gears turning as she calculated her next move. He took a step closer to her, arms crossed in front of his chest. Her eyes darted to the exit his body was blocking, but there was no way she would be able to get past him – he didn’t need his scouter to recognize that she was pathetically feeble.

He decided to break the silence first. “Do you work for Cooler or for Eedee-Im?”

She tried not to react, but he could see her eyes widen slightly. “Neither.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Before she had a chance to respond, the sound of heavy footsteps startled them both. She seemed to weigh her options for a second before launching herself at Vegeta. He was horrified to find himself ensnared with all four of her limbs wrapped around him and her mouth covering his, until understanding dawned on him. Turning until her back was flush against the wall, he was even more appalled to realize that, if not for the danger, he would be thoroughly enjoying the feel of her soft curves pressed against him. 

“Ay, what’re you doing back here?!”

Vegeta couldn’t help but smirk as the little actress faked a startled gasp and quickly released him. The curtain had been pulled back by a gray-skinned brute nearly as tall as Nappa – and wider – that Vegeta identified as the one called Teggno, another of Eedee-Im’s henchmen. He would need to wait for the right opening to handle this quietly.

“Oh, is this area off-limits?” the woman asked innocently as she slyly inched closer to the door.

She giggled and winked, making it difficult for Vegeta not to roll his eyes. “We wanted a little privacy, and there weren’t any signs saying we weren’t allowed back here. Sorry!”

Teggno entered the room fully and glanced back and forth between the pair. Vegeta instinctively tensed himself for a fight, which drew his attention. He made a move to attack first when, with a strained yelp, his body fell onto the floor twitching. Sticking out of his neck was what appeared to be one of the asinine, but innocuous, glowing rods many of the club’s patrons had been twirling around as they danced.

After writhing in silent agony for nearly a minute, Teggno’s body went limp, and the woman pulled the device out of his neck.

“What the hell is that?” Vegeta demanded incredulously.

She smirked and twirled the luminescent green rod in the air in front of her. “Looks like a normal glow stick, doesn’t it?” Her expression turned serious as her eyes went back to the unconscious Teggno. “We need to get him out of here.”


	3. Warehouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, huge thanks to bardocksheadband for betaing!

“What the fuck do you mean ‘ _we_ need to get him out of here’?” Vegeta was incensed, having far too little patience and far too many questions about who this woman was who had, with no physical strength to speak of, taken out Eedee-Im’s strongest bodyguard with ease.

The woman in question rolled her cerulean eyes. “Which part was unclear, exactly?”

“First off, who the hell are you and what are you here for?”

As if to purposely infuriate him further, she ignored his question and retrieved a small tablet from the pouch fastened around her waist. He was on the verge of snapping at her when she spoke without looking up from the device in her hand.

“Call me Bulma. And I assume that we’re here for the same reason.” She leveled her gaze upon him. “You don’t want Cooler to get ahold of whatever Eedee-Im is selling, right?”

He regarded her with suspicion, but gave no response.

After a few moments of her fingers tapping away on the tablet’s surface, Bulma turned toward the exit. 

“Just so you know, I’m not thrilled at the idea of a team-up either, but I think we’d be better off talking _after_ we drag this asshole out of here.”

Vegeta seethed but, seeing no other options for the time being, heaved Teggno’s unconscious body over his shoulder while Bulma peeked her head through the curtain blocking the door frame. After nodding at him over her shoulder to indicate that the coast was clear, she hurried down the hallway in the opposite direction they had come from. They encountered two corners before it opened up into a smallish room in the shape of a lopsided pentagon that was attached to three other hallways.

Bulma tapped again on the tablet and indicated toward the passage on the right. Vegeta followed, despite his reluctance to place any trust in a stranger, and realized quickly that they were heading down a slight incline. The passage split into two diverging routes after a few more minutes of walking, and Bulma started toward the path on the left. She had taken no more than three steps before glancing down at the tablet and halting suddenly enough that Vegeta almost ran into her. With a slight look of panic, she held a finger to her lips and darted into the other hallway just as Vegeta heard the movement coming from the other direction.

A few feet into the hallway, Bulma pressed her back against the wall. Vegeta followed suit, and they waited as two creatures emerged from the hall they apparently needed to go down, speaking to one another in a buzzing, clicking language that Vegeta didn’t understand. As they disappeared from their sight, he heard Bulma release a sigh of relief as her fingers danced across her tablet.

“No one else is coming,” she whispered. “We’re almost there.”

They returned to their path, heading down a far steeper slope than before. After several minutes, Bulma came to a stop and turned to the wall. Frowning slightly in concentration, her hand slid along the wall until a small section gave way with a click. She stepped back as the seamless wall folded back to reveal a staircase that she immediately began descending. Again, Vegeta grimaced and followed her.

The stairway opened up into some sort of warehouse, dimly illuminated by thin strips of light that ran along the aisles. As Vegeta examined the rows upon rows of shelving that seemed to extend infinitely upward, he heard the woman hurrying down one of the aisles. Frowning, he shifted Teggno’s dead weight onto his other shoulder and trailed after her as she led through a maze of aisles. They stopped at a towering black cuboid dotted with a cacophony of blinking lights of various colors.

She exhaled a short, breathy laugh as she turned to him, but her expression quickly morphed into one of determination.

“Okay, you can put him down.” She dug through her bag as she spoke, whipping out a pair of handcuffs.

When Vegeta tossed Teggno’s limp body face-first onto the floor, she cuffed his hands together and pressed a barely visible button in the center that caused the shackles to glow yellow.

“These will drain his ki,” she offered without prompting. “That way, he won’t cause any trouble when he comes to.”

“Talk, Woman.” Vegeta levelled his icy glare on her. “Give me one reason not to obliterate you where you stand.”

Her blue eyes shone with challenge as she smirked. “Well, for one, you can’t. I may not be strong physically, but I’ve got some damn good insurance that you won’t make it out of this warehouse alive if anything happens to me.”

“You’re bluffing.”

She shrugged and lifted her right hand to her left shoulder, tearing a strip of fabric from her shirt. 

“Think what you want, but you should know that I’m wondering whether I should keep _you_ around.” She kneeled by Teggno’s head and stuffed the balled up cloth into his mouth. When she stood, she pointed at him with her toe. “ _This_ was not part of the plan, but I adapted. If I have to deal with a Frieza goon to boot, so be it. I’ll adapt to that, too.”

She started messing with her tablet again, but he swiped it from her hands. It was only with great difficulty, as she looked up to see the fury on his face, that she maintained her calm composure.

“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” he questioned through gritted teeth. 

She rolled her eyes, despite the threat, and placed both hands on her hips. “Look, I told you before that I’m on your side. If y-”

“The hell you are! You haven’t given me one single shred of evidence that you aren’t scheming against Frieza.”

“Do you want me to be scheming against Frieza?”

He froze. 

“I’m not ready to make my move yet, but one of these days, Frieza and Cooler are both going to fall. I have a feeling that you’re like me, biding your time for the right moment to strike. Right, Prince Vegeta?”

“I-” he sputtered, struggling to form words. “You can’t just-”

She stepped forward, invading his space, and he found himself unable -- or unwilling -- to prevent her from taking back the tablet. He _knew_ she was lying about having the means to subdue him -- it wasn’t possible that anyone so weak could pose a challenge to him. He waited nonetheless, narrowed eyes never straying from her and body tensed for any sudden movement. 

If Bulma realized how prepared he was to strike, she didn’t show it, her attention completely focused on whatever task she was working on. After a few minutes, she turned back to the blinking tower. She walked to the other side, and by the time he had turned the corner to follow her, she was making her way up a ladder embedded in the metallic surface. He watched her fish a wire out of her bag, one end of which she connected to a port in the tower. The other end was plugged into her tablet before she carefully climbed back down.

Several more minutes passed once she was back on the ground before Vegeta saw her eyes light up. She had found something. As she pored over the screen, the look of joy on her face morphed into one of horror. “No…no, no, no, no, no…”

“What is it?”

“It’s worse than we thought,” she said while running a shaky hand through her blue hair. “The data stored in the mainframe is incomplete, but, from the looks of it…” She buried her face in her hands, unable to continue.

“Well?” he prompted impatiently.

“Mind control -- Eedee-Im is working on something that will alter free will, and not on a small scale. We’re talking ‘brainwashing entire planets.’”

_Impossible._ He shuddered at what the woman was implying. If she was telling the truth, whoever got their hands on this technology would have the power to conquer worlds without the casualties and resources needed for battle.

“The information I need is being kept somewhere safe.” He watched her face as she devised whatever plan she was coming up with. “I’m almost a hundred percent positive that the only place she would be willing to store it is on her body somewhere. If I can get close enough, I should be able to copy it.”

Her frown deepened when she looked at him. “Of course, then there’s you. How do I know that you aren’t going to deliver this new development into Frieza’s hands?”

It was a fair point; they were still, for all intents and purposes, perfect strangers, and he remained wary of her intentions. He felt offended nonetheless.

“He’s the last person in the universe that I would want to get a hold of this.”

She regarded him carefully as she came to a decision, then flashed him a smile that put him on edge.

“We’re gonna need to blend in…” She brushed past him, grazing him slightly as she passed. “And I know exactly how.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things between our protagonists will start heating up in tomorrow's chapter so stay tuned! 😘


	4. House Music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to bardocksheadband for betaing this project!

Torture was something Vegeta knew well. Broken bones, being blasted through the torso, ruptured organs -- all were things he could, and routinely did, handle without so much as a grimace. He had been torn apart by Frieza and put back together in a regeneration tank more times than he could count.

But _this_ was worse than any physical pain or humiliation he had ever experienced.

“You have to move,” Bulma shouted in his ear. “You’re drawing attention to yourself by being weird about it.”

His already flushed face grew hotter. 

“Here.” She grabbed his hands from his side and placed them on her hips. “Just touch me like the other sleazy guys are doing to their dance partners.”

A glance at the pairs and groups around them clarified what she meant, and he snatched his hands away from her in revulsion. It was too much. His head was pounding from the ear-splitting bass and screeching electronic sounds that were apparently intended to be enjoyable. He didn’t understand how she could look so carefree while he felt like he would die of mortification. 

The Prince of All Saiyans did not _dance._

She reached for his hands again, and, with a slightly teasing smile, leaned in to speak directly into his ear again. “It’s really sweet that you aren’t the type to take advantage of a lady, but it’s okay. We need to blend in, so you have my permission to touch me wherever… Well, within reason anyway.”

Afraid that their conversation could be overheard, he looked at some of the nearby dancers again, but most of them were lost in their own worlds. He reluctantly brought his hands to her waist and tried to make his small movements less stiff. 

He tensed as she put her arms around his neck, pressing her body far closer to his than he was comfortable with. Her hips undulated to the rhythm of the music, exacerbating his unease as she moved against him. She rested her chin on his shoulder as she spoke again over the music.

“I know it’s uncomfortable, but you need to move your hands. Pretend you’re into it.”

He swallowed while reluctantly complying, tentatively allowing his hands to roam up and down her back. He hated the loud music, the crowd, being forced to dance. 

But, most of all, he hated that he didn’t have to pretend to be ‘into it.’ She was so _soft_ and smelled incredible. At first, he had assumed that her scent was simply appealing in contrast to the horrendous odors of others present, but as she pressed against him, he caught himself over and over again with his nose next to her hair inhaling her intoxicating fragrance.

“Any sign of her?” Bulma’s voice snapped him back to the mission at hand, and he inwardly cursed himself for losing focus.

He scanned the area before answering. “No.”

She hummed and turned to face the same direction as him. “The VIP area is over that way, so there’s a good chance she, or at least someone close to her, is there.”

He was surprised when she grabbed his hands, which had returned to his sides, and brought them around to her middle. Her body kept moving, except, to his horror, her ass was rubbing the front of his pants. There was no chance of his body’s reaction to their close proximity remaining concealed much longer, but, if she noticed, she didn’t seem to mind. As her head was turned to the side, eyes scanning for any sign of Eedee-Im or her inner circle, he studied her features. At some point his hands had begun to stroke the exposed skin of her abdomen, and he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation for the short time he could.

“Should we move over that way?” 

He again kicked himself mentally for letting her distract him, especially when she was apparently able to maintain focus without issue. He released her and began shouldering his way through the crowd with her in tow. If he shoved some people aside more roughly than necessary, it was only because of the grating music aggravating him beyond belief.

Positioning herself in front of him, she wound her arms around his neck again once they were closer to the roped-off hallway that led to an area apparently designated for ‘very important people.’ It took barely a minute for Vegeta to come to understand that ‘important’ was another word for ‘willing to pay a shitload of credits.’ Determined to retain his focus, he let his hands wander absentmindedly over her back and sides as he watched some people pay to be admitted to the exclusive area while others were sent away.

He felt Bulma tense in his arms as she watched the area behind him. “Um…There are two huge human-looking dudes heading straight this way.”

Vegeta had barely enough time to wonder what the fuck a human was when he heard Raditz’ annoying voice. “Well, well, well…We’re off working while the Prince plays.”

Bulma pulled away instantly. “Friends of yours?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

As he and Nappa flanked their leader, Raditz let out a low whistle, barely audible over the music, as his eyes wandered down Bulma’s form. “Who’s this cutie?”

“I’ll explain later,” Vegeta said dismissively, noting to himself that an explanation would come only after he beat the everloving shit out of the long-haired third-class.

“We ran into each other a few minutes ago,” Nappa said, ignoring Raditz’ antics. He spoke quietly enough that most beings, with their insensitive ears, would not be able to discern his words. “Neither of us had seen anything, so we figured we’d find you to see if you’d had any luck. I don’t think it’s happening, at least not tonight.”

“It is,” Vegeta corrected. “I have new intelligence. We’re on the lookout for her now.”

Nappa nodded, but before he could respond, the prince’s attention was diverted by Bulma seizing his arm with both hands.

“She’s over there,” she said excitedly. Vegeta looked, and, sure enough, Eedee-Im was heading into the VIP section with a purple-skinned woman on her arm. “Let’s follow her.”

\---

If Vegeta had been irritated by the sheer amount of audio pollution he was forced to endure while they danced, hearing Raditz’ barrage of suggestive comments currently had him apoplectic as the group waited in line to enter the VIP section of Eedee-Im’s club. He was tuning the long-haired Saiyan out as best he could, but he couldn’t help but pick up a ‘ _so_ happy the Prince is making friends…especially good-looking lady friends’ here or a ‘guess he’s not asexual after all’ there. 

He tried to remind himself that he had survived worse tests of his patience. It didn’t stop his teeth from grinding together as Raditz slung a large arm around Bulma’s shoulder. 

“So, tell us how you and Prince Vegeta got acquainted,” he said while grinning back in his direction. “I’m sure you couldn’t tell, but he’s not usually the friendly type. You should feel honored.”

From his position behind them, he couldn’t see Bulma’s facial expression, but the tension in her back made it clear that she wasn’t very comfortable with Raditz’ provocations.

“Enough,” Vegeta growled as he pushed the larger man away from her. “If you value your pathetic life, you’ll shut your mouth.”

“He was only teasing, Vegeta,” objected Nappa. “No need to get upset.”

Before Vegeta could respond, they had reached the front of the queue. A burly alien with green and orange stripes on their face stood between them and the rope barrier. “100,000 credits.”

Vegeta balked at the price, but he wouldn’t have a choice but to wipe out his savings to gain entrance. If he used force to get in, their cover would be blown and the assignment would be ruined.

“I’ll pay for all of us,” Bulma announced as she pulled her credit chip from her bag. With an icy stare directed at Raditz, she added, “Except for that jackass.” 

The corner of Vegeta’s mouth turned upwards as Raditz let out a pathetic groan. “Aw, c’mon, Blue! Don’t be like that.”

Nappa nudged Vegeta on the shoulder and asked in a low voice, “Whaddya think, should I stay with him?”

Vegeta waved a hand dismissively, and the older Saiyan carted the still whining Raditz away. By the time his attention was turned back to Bulma, she had already finished the transaction. She beamed at him and wrapped herself around one of his arms as they entered the exclusive branch of the club. He chose to ignore the fact that her touch was not entirely unpleasant.


	5. Body Shots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to bardocksheadband for betaing. I was pretty nervous about this chapter in particular 😅

To Vegeta’s relief, this area was somewhat quieter than the main section of the building. The music was more tolerable both in terms of volume and style; whereas the outside music was a too-fast racket of growling bass and screeching treble, the tones in here were mellower, almost relaxing, with an unhurried tempo and soothing, hypnotic consonances. This would be the type of music he liked if he cared at all for such pastimes.

His eyes also received a welcome relief from the glaring, irregularly timed and colored flashes of light that had assaulted his vision before. The lighting in the VIP lounge was far less harsh, dimmed neons providing adequate light to see while not being overwhelmingly bright. Near the center stood a bar with a glass countertop that rested on an aquarium, brimming with exotic marine creatures and plants, that wrapped all the way around. The area off to one side of the bar was filled with round tables of various sizes and heights, and two of the room’s five walls were lined with spacious booths, several of which were hidden by curtains that shielded their occupants from view. Most of the large room was occupied by clusters of couches and chairs spaced far enough apart for pairs or groups to mingle at a comfortable distance from others.

They gravitated toward a mostly empty corner of the lounge, and Bulma pressed herself against a wall. She tugged at his arms in an attempt to pull his body flush with hers, and he surprised himself by allowing it, winding his arms around her waist while she ran her hands down the muscles of his chest.

She nuzzled her face into his neck and spoke quietly enough to not be overheard. “I think our best bet is to keep acting like a couple of horny partiers trying to get into each other’s pants. Are you okay with this?” As she asked the question, her hands stilled. She looked worried, apparently concerned after all the grief Raditz had given him.

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through the silky blue hair that had fascinated him all evening. “It’s fine.” 

To prove his point, he pressed a soft, tentative kiss to her mouth, which she hungrily reciprocated. They had an act to maintain, and if enjoyed himself a bit in the process, so be it.

Bulma pulled away from his lips and peppered light kisses onto his neck as she spoke again. “She’s in a booth over by the bar, so we’ll need to lay low and keep close until I can get close enough.”

Nodding in agreement, he pulled away from her slightly and allowed her to lead him to a sitting area near the bar. She nudged him toward an empty chair facing the booth that concealed Eedee-Im and her entourage and climbed onto his lap. His arms wound around her instinctively, and he constantly found his attention wandering.

He barely registered how much time had passed before the curtains peeled back and Eedee-Im emerged with the woman she entered with on her arm. They stopped and chatted briefly with a few different groups of people before approaching the bar. The purple woman flagged down a bartender, shouting something that Vegeta couldn’t quite discern, before climbing onto the countertop. His confusion mounted as she positioned herself flat on her back, but Bulma practically leapt out of his lap, clearly excited by whatever was happening. 

She turned back to Vegeta as he stood. “I need you to watch everything that Eedee-Im does to her companion,” she instructed. He didn’t like being ordered around, but he had no idea what was happening, so he kept his mouth shut as she led the way toward the bar.

A small crowd had convened, and they shouted crude encouragement for whatever was about to occur. As her companion placed a slice of some sort of citrus fruit rind-first into her mouth, Eedee-Im poured a small amount of salt between her breasts. The bartender provided a bottle of liquor, which, to Vegeta’s shock, Eedee-Im poured into her companion’s navel. The crowd’s excitement swelled as Eedee-Im brought her mouth down to slurp the liquid before running her forked tongue over the trail of salt and finally taking the fruit into her own mouth.

The crowd burst into cheers, and, before Vegeta could process what the hell had just happened, Bulma was pushing her way to the front of the bar.

“Ooh, me next!” she called. The cheery, flirty voice she had spoken in when they first met had returned. She turned to him and winked. “Help me up?”

He reluctantly offered her a hand as she took the other woman’s place and lied back. She grabbed the salt before reaching out to Eedee-Im, who was still standing nearby. “Excuse me, miss, but would you mind? My new friend here has never done this before.” She giggled as Eedee-Im took the salt, and Vegeta caught the tiniest flash of movement as she pressed down on one of the colorful beads around her wrist. If he didn’t know what was happening, he probably wouldn’t have even noticed.

Eedee-Im gave him a coy smile as she sprinkled a line of salt onto Bulma’s collarbone. She was even generous enough to pour the alcohol into her navel as Bulma placed the slice of fruit into her mouth.

“She’s all yours,” Eedee-Im said to Vegeta, offering a wink as she stepped back. 

The crowd hollered and whistled, and Vegeta gulped as he looked down at the woman spread out on the bar for him. Spurred on by the challenge in her eyes, he dove forward, pressing his mouth against her navel and drinking deeply. His tongue traced the hollow interior, the sweet taste of her skin chasing the alcohol burning his mouth and throat. He wanted to savor the taste forever, but he moved his mouth up to her collarbone. His tongue snaked out to touch the line of salt there before he moved up her body and brought his lips down to hers. He took the acidic fruit into his mouth, wishing he could toss it aside and suck on her tongue instead.

As he pulled away from her, he offered her a hand that she used to pull herself into a seated position. The crowd had erupted into cheers, but he barely noticed. Her eyes sparkled with mirth for a moment before turning serious. She had gotten it.


	6. No Pants and a Missing Shoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you've read here, you should know that it would not be possible without bardocksheadband proof-reading and letting me bounce ideas off her.

The pair were making their way to the exit when a wiry, four armed creature with talon-like claws burst forth from the crowd. Vegeta’s body moved instinctively in front of Bulma’s, but the newcomer attempted to shoulder his way past him, albeit without success.

“I’m next,” he slurred. “Get back up there, sweets.”

Bulma’s eyes remained locked on the door while wrapping one hand delicately around Vegeta’s bicep. “No thanks,” she said, with that same carefree affectation. “I’m a one-guy type of gal.”

Vegeta turned to follow her, but the idiot apparently couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

“Aw, don’t be a cunt, sweetheart,” he cooed. “You could do way better than short ‘n’ spiky here.”

It was everything Vegeta could do to keep himself from eviscerating the creep on the spot. He couldn’t afford to draw attention to them after they’d finally gotten what they were here for. The crowd that had been attracted by the spectacle had dispersed, but a fight would still jeopardize everything he had been working so hard to uncover tonight. 

“You heard the Woman.” His voice was dangerously low, but the cretin before him was too far gone to understand the dangerous waters in which he was treading. 

“Shaddup,” he sneered as he attempted, again, to shoulder his way past the Saiyan.

Vegeta shoved the alien’s shoulders just hard enough to push him back. Already off-balance, the drunk creature failed to regain his balance and crashed into an adrogynous being with pincers in place of a mouth. The blue liquid in the glass they were holding sloshed about, most of it landing on their white jumpsuit. 

_”You scum!”_ A blaster was pulled from a holster on their hip, and they aimed it at the previously aggressive, but now cowering, alien.

By some miracle of desperation, the drunk creature was able to dodge just in time for the blast to graze his ear before going on to land in the back of a being on the other side of the room. The unintended casualty crumpled to the floor, prompting shocked cries from the group they had been sitting with. The chaos that ensued rippled across the VIP lounge and consumed nearly everyone. Bodies were falling left and right, weapons discharging from every corner of the room while individual brawls shattered glass and overturned furniture.

Vegeta shoved Bulma underneath the nearest table before folding in next to her.

“If we can get out of this room, I saw a side exit not too far from the entrance as we were coming in.”

He leaned out to survey the situation. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be possible, with his speed and reflexes, to get them both to the door unscathed. He just needed the right opening.

A crash sounded from above, and the legs of the table buckled. Vegeta had just enough time to brace an arm over Bulma’s head to prevent her from being crushed, but the table crumbled under the weight of the body thrown on top of it. The rubble -- and an unconscious alien--fell onto Bulma’s foot, causing her to wince in pain as she struggled to free it from the wreckage. 

In one swift movement, Vegeta tossed the piece of the table he had caught aside and pulled the dead weight off of her foot. Holding the ankle carefully in his hand, he was able to discern that no bones were broken, although the ankle was red and slightly swollen. The laces of the sneaker on that foot had come undone.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. The effort it took for her to get to her feet, however, was not entirely convincing. Vegeta scooped her up and ran, vaguely aware of the shoe falling off as they went.

The violence had spread to outside the lounge as well, and they found Nappa and Raditz near the entrance to the exclusive area. 

“What the hell happened in there?” Nappa shouted over the pandemonium.

“No time to explain.” Vegeta’s eyes scanned the area before landing on the exit. “You two stay here for now. Try not to get involved in the fighting.” He knew that he was wasting his breath on that order. “Contact me through your scouter when things have calmed down, and we’ll regroup.”

He barely spared a glance at his two subordinates as they headed in the opposite direction. With a heavy groan, he saw the drunk from before drawing in on them.

“Hey, asshole!” The creature drew its long talons back to strike, but Vegeta was much faster. He kicked the belligerent alien in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him as expected. What he didn’t expect was the momentum of the man’s upper body bringing his claws dangerously close to an area he would prefer left intact. He pulled away just in time to avoid being stabbed in the scrotum, but the pants were shredded.

Pissed beyond reasoning, Vegeta shot a ki blast into the creature’s stomach that finished the job before hurrying through the exit and into the night.

He examined his ruined pants after setting Bulma down. Surprisingly enough, his underwear were still covering everything important. “That son of bitch,” he growled. “I should have-”

“Can you fly?” Bulma interrupted.

“What kind of weak species can’t fucking _fly_?” he snapped back with more force than necessary.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll ignore that, for now. There’s a corner store about a mile in that direction.” She pointed. “Get us there, and I can replace your pants.”

To his irritation, she didn’t even wait for him to agree before wrapping herself around him. They touched down in front of the tiny store in less than a minute, and he held his head high as she pulled him toward the restroom, ignoring the attendant’s bemused grin as she observed the man with no pants and the woman with a missing shoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing very sexy in this chapter, but there may or may not be some smut in tomorrow's prompt: Bathroom Quickie 😘


	7. Bathroom Quickie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven days into Smutfest, so I guess it's time to throw in a little smut. 😉
> 
> Thanks to bardocksheadband for betaing!

As the door of the single-stall bathroom clicked shut behind them, Bulma pulled a small box out of the bag she wore around her waist. She seemed to deliberate on something for a moment before her eyes flicked over to Vegeta, who was leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Would you mind turning around?” she asked. When he didn’t respond, she went on. “…Or close your eyes…?”

He didn’t budge, save for his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to figure out what she was up to.

When he made no sign of complying, she sighed and opened the case. She removed a small cylindrical object, no larger than the palm of her hand, with a flat button at one end. Her thumb depressed the button before she tossed the cylinder onto the floor between them. He panicked momentarily at the smoke that poured from the spot where the object had landed, afraid that she might be attempting to poison him. As the plumes of smoke dissipated, however, he was surprised to see an unassuming-looking duffel bag that she promptly knelt to unzip.

“I’m not sure why, but I trust you for some reason,” she murmured as she sifted through the bag’s contents. She pulled out an article of clothing, and her eyes pinned him to the spot with an iciness that looked out of place on her features. “If Frieza gets wind of capsule storage technology, I will literally hunt you down and kill you.”

Despite the undeniable veracity of the threat, the challenge thrilled him, and he found himself smirking.

Her fierce expression melted away as she looked at the clothing in her hand. “Unfortunately, the only pants I have that will fit you are yoga pants. Hope you’re okay with a tight fit.”

He wasn’t sure what ‘yoga’ meant, but he caught the pants that she tossed toward him and was pleased to find that they were made from some sort of stretchy material. He preferred tight clothing to the loose garments he had worn tonight to avoid giving away his status as a soldier. Other than being a bit tighter than comfortable about the groin, the pants were comfortable.

“Answers. Now.” As soon as his torn pants were replaced, his typical cross-armed stance was resumed.  
She seemed unconcerned. “What do you want to know?”

“Who do you work for?”

She closed her eyes for a moment before returning his cold stare. “Galactic Patrol.”

“What do you want?”

“I’m working to arrest Eedee-Im. She’s been supplying weapons to Cooler’s army for a while now, and the data I’ve gathered tonight will help us seal the deal. In case you’re worried, we have no plans of arresting you or your associates since-”

“As if you could.”

“- _since_ we couldn’t apprehend you as of now even if we wanted to.” She paused, studying him intensely before continuing. “I _will_ be able to take down Cooler and Frieza both, soon enough…If I could find a contact on the inside, it would help me do that.”

The implication was clear, but could she be trusted? There was a chance that she was planted by Frieza to test his loyalty. He could agree to be her accomplice, but the consequences would be deadly if it was a trap. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could serve under the tyrant who murdered his father, destroyed his planet, and enslaved him for almost the entirety of his life. The fissures in his pride were bound to drive him insane if he didn’t get out, and soon.

He was well-trained in hiding his emotions, but she seemed to pick up on his internal distress. “For the record,” she said as she closed the gap between them, “you don’t owe me anything. Your help has been invaluable tonight, and I won’t forget it. We can go our separate ways and pretend this never happened.”

A new terror seized him at the thought of never seeing her again. He had never met anyone with half her intelligence, and her bravery despite her pitifully small power level was admirable. The more time they spent together, the more he wanted to know about her. 

His mind was made up instantly. If this was a well-laid trap by Frieza to punish him for disloyalty, so be it. He would rather die a million deaths than remain under the lizard’s heel for another minute of his miserable existence.

Bulma’s eyes widened as his mouth claimed hers, but the surprise went away quickly as she melted against his warm body. His hands were everywhere, his lips hungrily exploring her mouth and neck more frantically than in all the time they had spent pretending to be a horny couple at Eedee-Im’s club. She jumped slightly at the feeling of his tail wrapping around her waist.

His hands groped her ass, pulling her closer against his body. She moaned as she felt the erection pressed against her lower abdomen. He moved suddenly, and she found herself trapped between his warm body and the cold door in front of her. As he kissed the back of her neck, his hand slithered into the front of her tattered jeans, slowly working between her legs. Her spine arched as she sought to increase the pressure, but his fingers refused to move any faster. She could practically feel the bastard smiling behind her.

She decided to up the ante, unfastening her pants and pushing them, along with her underwear, down her pale thighs as she pressed her bare ass into his groin. The grip his free hand had on her hip tightened almost enough to hurt before it moved to pull down the borrowed pants he wore. She heard him hiss as he rubbed himself against her dripping entrance, but, to her annoyance, he didn’t give her what she wanted. He seemed content to run his cock along her seam a few times, press the very tip in, pull out, and repeat.

“Ah, Vegeta…” She’d had enough of this torture. “We don’t have all the time in the world, you know.”

He knew all too well that their time together was limited. He also knew that this could be the last opportunity he ever had to spend with her, and he didn’t want a quick, clumsy fuck to be the culmination of their time together. She was right, though, so he pressed into her slowly, closing his eyes and trying to burn every detail into his brain. Satin skin under his fingertips. The warm walls contracting around him. The scent of her hair. Her sweet gasps urging him on.

His unhurried pace was dictated largely by a desire to savor every moment, but he was also keenly aware of how breakable she was, like a glass ornament that would shatter under the slightest pressure. It became difficult to hold back as she ground her hips backward, and his worries subsided as he increased his pace and received only fervent requests of “more” and “harder.”

Swears in a language only two others besides himself could understand escaped him as his left hand moved under her shirt to capture a nipple. She bit her lip, trying and failing to contain her sounds of pleasure as he pumped into her hard and fast. As he watched her face, eyes closed and cheeks flushed pink, pressed against the door, he resolved that Frieza could vaporize him on the spot for his decision to conspire against him and it would still be worth it. She was worth any amount of torture.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she smirked at having caught him staring at her. In response, he pulled out and spun her around. She whined in protest, but only for a moment, as he was inside her once more in an instant, her legs draped over his arms while his right hand tangled in her hair. His tail twisted around her thigh.

He kissed her hungrily, exploring her mouth with his tongue as she moaned at his ministrations. When he pulled back to look at her again, she met his heated gaze, and the wanton look in her bright blue eyes nearly pulled him over the edge on the spot. 

One of her hands came between their bodies to rub herself, and her eyes squeezed closed again as he replaced her hand with his own. Her breath caught as her eyes flew open, and her entire body shook as the orgasm crashed over her. Everything--the way she looked, the scent of her arousal, the vice-like grip on his member, and the pride of knowing that she had chosen _him_ \--became too much, and he came moments after her body went limp in his arms.

His face nuzzled into her neck as they caught their breath. _Gods,_ he hoped he could have her again (and again and again and again). One time would never be enough.

All good things have to end eventually, and he helped her regain balance as her feet settled back onto the floor. He frowned at her sharp inhalation as she put her weight on the foot that had been injured earlier, but it seemed to pain her far less than it had initially. She flashed him a dazzling smile as she made her way back to the duffle bag to pull out an extra pair of shoes, having lost one in the chaos as they fled Eedee-Im’s. 

As Bulma tidied herself up, Vegeta searched the pockets of his shredded pants for his scouter. A light on the screen was blinking, indicating a message, as he placed the device on his ear and pressed the button.

“Vegeta,” the recording of Nappa’s voice started. “The place is pretty much shut down. No sign of Eedee-Im or Green Goddess. Let us know where we should meet up.”

He growled as he removed the scouter from his face, but a sudden realization hit him. He watched in amazement as Bulma pressed a button on the duffle bag’s handle, causing it to fold in on itself until all that remained was the capsule she had summoned it from. _They would have to stay on the planet for at least another night._


	8. Party Pills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous smut incoming ;-)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and leave a comment -- even though I'm not very good about responding to comments. 
> 
> Thanks again to bardocksheadband for taking the time to beta for me!

They convened with Nappa and Raditz in the lobby of a hotel not far from Eedee-Im’s club. After checking in to separate rooms, the group met in the shabby room with two small beds on the second floor that Vegeta’s underlings would be sharing, where formal introductions were made and Vegeta, after making certain that the scouters would not overhear, filled his fellow Saiyans in on Bulma’s involvement. He pointedly left out the details about her plans to topple Frieza and Cooler’s empires; the two brutes would undoubtedly be onboard for rebellion but couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths shut. The version of events he relayed also omitted their encounter in the corner store bathroom, but the smug expression on Raditz’ face showed that its inclusion was hardly necessary. Saiyan olfactory senses were both a blessing and a curse.

It was customary, whenever the Saiyans bunked at a proper hotel, for the prince to demand his own private quarters. Regardless, from the snickers he heard as he and Bulma exited, it was clear that his subordinates knew that the room Vegeta had booked for the night would remain empty. Oddly enough, he was too excited to be embarrassed.

Bulma had rented a suite on one of the top floors with a stunning view of the glittering city lights. It was a far cry from the bleak quarters Raditz and Nappa were able to afford, with an enormous four-poster bed stationed in front of a window overlooking the city. There were several other rooms to explore, but Vegeta couldn’t care less if he never learned what was in them. He made his way over to the wall of windows Bulma was gazing from and embraced her from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck.

“It seems you’re well-compensated,” he murmured in her ear. “Perhaps I should abandon my post and sell myself to the Galactic Patrol.”

She snorted. “The pay is shit, actually, but I’m the wealthiest woman on my planet. I trade some stuff that’s unique to my planet for credits here and there. I enjoy my creature comforts.”

He hummed against her skin as his tail idly traced her ribs. She spun around in his arms, grateful for their evenly matched height as she traced his lower lip with her tongue. After a few moments of leisurely kissing, she felt her feet lifting off the ground and gladly wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her over to the bed. 

He gently released her onto her back, breath catching at the sight of her blue curls fanning across the white pillows while she bit her lip in anticipation. Pulling the torn jeans down her legs, he nibbled the inside of each creamy thigh gently, lips quirking into a small smile as her hips jerked upward. She gasped as his tongue ghosted over the thin layer of lace covering her sex, and his plan to tease her for as long as he could stand it dissolved almost in an instant. He effortlessly tugged her panties away and ran his tongue along the warm, wet flesh he found there, relishing each moan that escaped her and the way her pelvis thrust forward to take anything he could offer her.

He pulled back slightly while easing a finger inside her, watching the pleasure roll across her features as her muscles clenched around him. His tail lightly, apparently acting with a mind of its own, stroked her inner thigh softly. Her chest, flushed slightly pink, heaved, and he watched in rapt fascination as she brought her hands up to cup her breasts. That such beauty existed in the universe, or any other realm, was something he never would have believed possible -- a thought that he would have scoffed at even a few short hours earlier. He carefully slid a second finger into her and brought his mouth down to cover her clitoris.

Her movements became increasingly frantic, her fists tightly clenching the sheet. As the tension drained from her body, he planted a trail of kisses from her hip to her neck. Her still tired arms wrapped around his neck as he buried himself inside her, and he hid his face in her shoulder with a groan as he struggled to keep from finishing on the spot. As soon as he had reigned himself in, he pulled back to look at her face. 

He nearly melted as their eyes met, her wicked grin fanning the flames burning in his core, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that returning to the monotonous existence he had endured for the past twenty years was not an option. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt anything other than anger, shame, and, on good days, boredom. His eyes drifted closed as he set a slow pace, memorizing each of the sounds he was able to pull from her beautiful mouth.

Her nails raked lightly down his chest, and he groaned as he brought his mouth down to capture a pert nipple between his teeth. He pulled away from her once more, using his tail to pull her leg over his shoulder to deepen the contact. The furry limb caressed the inside of her thigh, and she grasped it carefully in her hand, eliciting a choked cry from the Saiyan above her. Her eyes widened as she immediately let go, but he interrupted her apology. 

“Gently,” he gasped. “It feels… good.”

She tentatively wound both hands around the tail, gently massaging the fur. A deep rumble emanated from his chest, and she had to stifle a giggle when it reminded her of a purring cat. His eyes narrowed at the amusement on her face, and he abruptly flipped her over and entered her from behind, his tail coming between the front of her legs to massage her button. Her moans crescendoed as she tightened around him. Eyes transfixed on the way the flesh of her round ass jiggled with each thrust, he smacked one cheek with just enough force to make her yelp before slumping forward in exhaustion as she rode out her second orgasm. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade as he gave in to his own climax, wishing desperately, not for the first time, that their time together wasn’t so limited and the chances of seeing one another in the future slim.

When he recovered enough to withdraw, he flopped onto his back, pulling her onto his still heaving chest. His arms grasping her tightly as he listened to the sound of her heartbeat returning to its normal resting pace. For several minutes, they were content to lay in silence interrupted every once in a while when he’d press a soft kiss onto the top of her head. 

Too soon for either’s liking, she pulled away from him. She stretched both arms above her head as she stood and retrieved the tablet from her bag, unbothered by the dark eyes tracing her every movement until she returned to sit cross-legged, still gloriously naked, on the bed.

She frowned slightly as she sifted through the encrypted files she’d managed to steal earlier, redacting sensitive technical details before forwarding them on to Jaco at headquarters. Once he reviewed the information, they would be able to make their move and arrest her.

After placing the device on the table next to the bed, she turned back to see Vegeta continuing to watch her intently. 

“Well?” he prompted.

She sighed. “We should be able to take her in any day now. Then I can destroy every trace of her little mind-control project.” She paused, studying him cautiously. “Could I make a modification to your scouter?”

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Hers rolled in annoyance.

“If you’re serious about helping me out down the road, it’d probably be best if we could talk without being listened in on, right?” 

A valid point, but he waited for her to continue.

“Stop being suspicious and hand it over.”

He begrudgingly complied with her demand, ignoring the shit-eating grin on her face as he did so. She attached it to her left ear and set about her work. The small frown and furrowed brow that he had come to recognize as her look of concentration was firmly in place, and he watched in fascination. After a few minutes of sifting through the files and programs on his scouter, she went to retrieve a short cable that she used to connect her tablet to the scouter. He would never admit aloud that the symbols on the screen were utterly meaningless to him; he kept his eyes fixed on her work the entire time, with the exception of looking at her face every now and then, enjoying the determination he found there.

Around fifteen minutes passed with her alternating between typing hieroglyphs onto the tablet and pressing buttons on the scouter before she growled and placed them both on the table beside the bed. She pulled the box of capsules from her bag, and, a few seconds and one large puff of smoke later, the tiny cylinder had morphed into an enormous red metal box with wheels that she pushed closer to the bed. Vegeta was not sure that the miracle of seeing such a large object contained in a tiny device would ever cease to amaze him.

A black handle on the top of the rolling box was folded back to reveal a portable work station. Bulma retrieved the scouter, and the tablet it was still connected to, and began scavenging through drawers to pull out a few tools whose functions Vegeta knew (and many more whose functions he was ignorant of). 

His initial distrust had been mostly replaced by rapt fascination as he watched her quickly dismantle his scouter, revealing the tangle of small, intricate wires it contained. He only flinched a little bit as the small scissors in her hand snipped at said wires, but she didn’t seem to even remember that he was there. She deftly soldered away, adding bits of wire from her toolbox and pausing every once in a while to check something on the tablet on the side of her work station.

After nearly an hour, the scouter was back in one piece and covering her left eye. A few more button presses and a satisfied smile (that Vegeta refused to note rivaled the satisfaction on her face after a round of fucking) later, and she handed the device back to its owner.

“Okay,” she started as he attached the scouter to his ear. “I’ve hidden the link a little bit so that it isn’t super obvious. Once connected, no one but me will be able to hear anything you say, and vice versa.”

“And what happens if they notice they can’t listen in on certain communications?” 

She scoffed. “As if I hadn’t thought of that the moment I decided to do this in the first place. I’m not an idiot.”

“Well then explain what’s going to stop them from seeing that my scouter is being used but they can’t see who I’m communicating with.”

“That’s the thing,” a smug smile split her features. “Anytime we’re talking, your scouter will appear to be idle to anyone who checks in on it.”

He grunted, reluctant to voice his admiration as she walked him through the process of making contact with her. Once he understood how it worked, he placed the scouter on the table next to the far side of the bed and rested his head on the pillows. For once, he let himself think of a future that didn’t revolve around simply surviving from one day to the next. He was still doubtful that whatever plan she was hatching to rebel against Frieza would work, but he let himself wonder, if only for a moment, what his life would be like as a free man.

His train of thought was interrupted as she climbed on top of him and claimed his mouth with her own, his hand instinctively twining in her hair while his tongue caressed her lower lip. Much too soon for his liking, she pulled away from his lips, only to trail them down the length of his torso before pressing a tender kiss just below his belly button as her hands slid up the insides of his thighs.

He groaned as one of her hands wrapped around his growing erection. Her touch was light, _too light,_ pumping him a few times before dragging her tongue slowly across the tip. Hands returning to her hair, it took every bit of self-control he had to hold back and let her set a pace she was comfortable with. 

When she finally deigned to take him deeper into her mouth, her name spilled from his lips like a prayer, and she smiled as she watched his normally stoic face contorting in pleasure. Working mouth and hand in tandem, she pumped him ruthlessly, bringing him to the brink of orgasm before releasing him, only to bring him to the edge again and repeat the process.

But Bulma was teasing herself by teasing him, and, unable to wait any longer, she crawled forward to straddle his hips. She sank slowly onto him as his fingers dug into her hips, his intense obsidian eyes boring into hers as her hips moved in circles. Bracing her hands against his chest, she began to move in earnest, and his hips began snapping upward to meet hers. She soon found it difficult to keep up and allowed him to take over while she concentrated on remaining upright. 

“Shit,” he hissed. “Bulma, you feel so fucking good.”

She couldn’t form the words to respond as his hands moved up to grab her bouncing breasts. His tail wrapped tightly around her waist, guided her movements up and down as his hands roamed over every inch of her body. Jolts of pleasure radiated through her body when one of his hands rubbed fast, firm circles around her clit, causing her to cry out as she reached her peak. The stimulation was too much, and he followed soon after.

He rolled them over onto their sides, and the warm smile she gave him brought him back to half-mast. He didn’t even notice that he was smiling himself until she placed a finger on his lips.

“You’re in a better mood than I’ve seen you in all night,” she teased.

He grunted. “I don’t hear any complaints from you.”

Her laugh was music to his ears. “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” she conceded. “This may have been the best rave I’ve ever been to -- and without the help of drugs even.”

“Drugs?” A heavy brow lifted in disapproval.

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing crazy. Back home we have a little thing called MDMA, also known as Ecstasy. It makes you feel… really, really good.”

“Tch. Don’t need it.”

His fingers trailed along her spine as he pulled her in for another heated kiss. He had made up his mind that sleep was at the bottom of his priority list for the night, but a buzzing sound from the bedside table grabbed her attention. He grumbled quietly as she reached over for her tablet.

After a few seconds of typing and a moment of reading, she smiled at him.

“Backup is on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go!! The final chapter is very short but will wrap everything up. Thanks again for reading!


	9. Police Raid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, already at the end! Thanks so much to bardocksheadband for her beta skills. 
> 
> If you haven't already, be sure to check out the incredible works other authors created for TPTH's Smutfest this year -- and the stories from Vegebulocracy's First Dates event.

Vegeta’s dark eyes scanned the crowded dance hall from a stool by the bar as he nursed his drink. The horrendous excuse for music threatened to shatter his sensitive eardrums, but he found it slightly more tolerable than he had the night before, probably thanks to his brain being flooded with endorphins so many times in the past twenty-four hours.

He was struggling to not let his thoughts dwell on the activities of the previous night (and most of the current day) when a glimpse of telltale sky blue hair caught his attention. The remainder of his drink was tossed down his throat as he made his way toward her. Her eyes lit up when they landed on him.

“Hi there,” she shouted over the din of the music. “Wanna dance?”

Holding back the urge to make a snide remark about his disdain for dancing, he wrapped his arms around her and prayed to any gods listening that no one would ever find out that the Prince of the Saiyan race had been reduced to such embarrassment. The soft breasts pressed against his chest and warm, sweet breath on his neck made it difficult to complain too much.

“You here alone?” she asked as she looked around, lips upturned in a knowing smile.

“Yes,” he answered. “I’m going to leave in a bit to meet some friends, though.”

She nodded in understanding. “Well, my friends should be here soon.”

Nothing else was spoken between the pair as they danced their way toward the edge of the crowd. Eventually, Vegeta’s back was less than a foot away from a wall. Their hands wandered over each other’s bodies with increasing boldness, but no one paid them any mind. Vegeta’s hand, clad in white gloves, lightly stroked the contour of her jaw, and her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned toward him.

A deafening crash brought the music to a screeching halt as Galactic Patrol officers poured into the establishment, shouting orders as they spread throughout the crowded club. As planned, Vegeta, with Bulma tucked securely in his arms, leapt backward with enough force to create a hole in the wall behind him. 

A short, purple alien with a white face and enormous yellow eyes was stationed on the other side. He conspicuously turned his back as the pair took to the sky, turning back toward the building _just in time_ to halt the unfortunate others who tried to utilize the escape route.

In a few short minutes, the pair touched down at the docking station where Nappa and Raditz waited next to the ship they had used to come to the planet.

Vegeta announced with a smirk, “We were too late. Galactic Patrol got to Eedee-Im before we could. I suppose it all worked out, regardless.”

With a nod from Nappa and an exaggerated wink from Raditz, the two boarded the ship while Vegeta and Bulma said their goodbyes.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, Badman,” she said quietly once the others were out of earshot. “I’ll be in touch.”

He pulled her in for one last kiss before she summoned a motorbike from a capsule and sped off into the night.


End file.
